Addie, Simply Addie
by Vampiyaa
Summary: Following the point of view of Rhys in the Two Princesses of Bamarre, inculding scenes unknown to Addie and their wedding night ;) A young sorcerer is forced to apprentice himself to a cowardly king, and finds himself quickly falling for the youngest princess. When Meryl contracts the Gray Death and Addie sets off for the cure, Rhys's feelings are forced to the surface.
1. King Lionel

Chapter 1

King Lionel

Rhys sighed petulantly and frowned at nothing in particular as he packed away the few belongings he owned into a roughly-hewn wooden chest. Why, the young sorcerer thought forlornly as he stuffed in a heavy sorcerer's textbook on jinxes, did his apprenticeship have to end so _soon_? Like his first five apprenticeships to five different kings, this one had as tradition stated lasted seven years, but to Rhys it felt like seven minutes. King Maurice, his now ex-master, was a kind and courageous man who doted on Rhys, treating him as though Rhys were his own son instead of a simple apprentice sorcerer. As Rhys hadn't a father figure except for Orne (who wasn't much of a father figure at all, but rather more like a military general with an affinity for solemness and textbooks) he had welcomed the attention, and now he was sad he was being forced to leave... and he was especially melancholic about his _future _master.

King Lionel of the neighbouring kingdom of Bamarre was well-known and infamous for his cowardice, laziness and the neglecting of his subjects when there were diseases, monsters and famine plaguing his kingdom. Though King Lionel had never been one for bravery, rumour had it that his attitude was far better when his wife, Queen Daria, had been alive before she had succumbed to the Gray Death. He had two daughters, who were rumoured to be polar-opposites yet joined at the hip— Rhys remembered the eldest daughter's name 'Meryl', as it was simple and quite common, but the youngest daughter's name had slipped his mind. She was rumoured to be as much of a coward as her father is, and Rhys shook his head vigorously, willing himself not to think such thoughts. If he was going to be serving beneath King Lionel, he mustn't think of his daughter so...

* * *

The only thing Rhys enjoyed about entering the kingdom of Bamarre was the journey— he'd purposely arrived late, procrastinating by flying happily in zigzag patterns and stopping once to dawdle next to a rather calming lake. He touched down in Bamarre Castle where nobody could see him, both to prevent the possibility of someone believing he was a show-off, and to again postpone the inevitable meeting between himself and King Lionel.

Luck apparently wasn't with the young sorcerer, however, as an under-developed male voice behind him greeted, "You must be the new sorcerer! Welcome to Bamarre."

Rhys turned, expertly keeping the grimace off his face, and swept into an elegant bow that stunned the young and rather portly servant. "Many thanks. My apologies, but you are...?"

"King Lionel's manservant, Lord Baignard," he said proudly, puffing out his chest and straining the buttons on his doublet. "Come, young sorcerer, I shall present you to His Majesty."

Rhys bowed again and bit back a grin behind Lord Baignard's back as he was led down a dusty hall. His future grin stopped fighting to be released as he took a glance at his surroundings; though the hall could use a good dusting, the walls were strewn with tapestry upon tapestry, elegantly embroidered scenes from the epic Bamarrian poem _Drualt. _Though Rhys had only read the poem twice himself, he recognized the scenes that had been sewn: Drualt the Laugher, Drualt weeping over a dead Freya as the villagers of the cowardly Surmic watched in fear, Drualt slaying Yune the dragon...

"Ah yes, the tapestries," exclaimed Lord Baignard, making Rhys realize he'd unconsciously stopped walking and was ogling the embroidery. "Princess Adelina is quite good with a needle and thread."

_Ah yes, Adelina, now I recall her name..._

"The youngest princess embroidered these?" Rhys asked, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt. He was hit by a surge of immediate guilt for his earlier thoughts.

"Indeed," said Lord Baignard, not as interested as Rhys in the tapestries. "Begging her pardon, of course, but Princess Meryl is the brave one. Why, just yesterday she threatened me with her training lance, shouting loud enough for Vollys herself to hear!"

Rhys nodded, only half-listening. His eyes kept trailing over to the Drualt scenes Princess Adelina had sewn, and a snippet of _Drualt _came into his mind.

_Drualt the laugher,  
Laughed at the sun,  
On his shield,  
The moon in his silver sword,  
The drum in his heart.  
Laughed at his someday death  
Glimpsed from afar.  
Drualt, the laugher,  
Laughed at death._

The manservant was rapidly outshone by Rhys's elegant and sweeping bow that even surprised King Lionel.

"The new sorcerer, I presume?" King Lionel said idly, and though the question was not directed at him Rhys nevertheless answered, "Yes, Your Majesty."

King Lionel studied him. "Come. _The Book of Homely Truths _has told me 'People falsely claim to detest grapes when the vines are too alpine for them to encompass'. I must consult the clergy."

Lord Baignard nodded as though he understood and obediently followed King Lionel into a room, but Rhys had no idea how such a quote could be relevant to the clergy. Also, it seemed that King Lionel had already forgotten his presence, so Rhys took this as an opportunity to bow to His Majesty's back and slip away. Rhys headed off to explore the castle, wishing for King Maurice's company and dramatic articulation in lieu of King Lionel's rudeness and silly, irrelevant quotes. He stopped in his tracks at the sound of a young female voice valiantly shouting, "On your feet, dastardly gryphon! _En garde_!"

Rhys approached the window and peeked outside, getting a wonderful view of a hundred-acre garden blossoming with various colourful flowers and fruit trees. In a clearing surrounded by bushes and stones was a fair-haired, hard-faced child of maybe eleven, brandishing a wooden training sword and glaring fiercly at a shabby-looking training target.

"Take that!" she laughed valorously, swiping at it and putting more dents in her sword than her target. "You shall perish at the hands of Princess Meryl and Addie!"

Rhys had only just noticed a timid-looking child with dark hair donning a dull-coloured gown, hands patiently in her lap as she watched her sister with a frightened look.

"Meryl!" Adelina nearly whispered, and Meryl lowered her sword to frown at her sister.

"Oh Addie, you'll outgrow your fear," she said, both reassuringly and huffily. "Then you shall come with me on all of my adventures across Bamarre, and we shall prevail together!"

Rhys frowned; Adelina seemed terrified at the very thought of even leaving the comfort of her castle. Perhaps she _was_ just as cowardly as her father... although sublimely more talented.

"I'll think about it," Adelina mumbled, clearly lying. "Let's play the Gray Death Game."

Rhys watched with confusion as Adelina boldly played a victim of the epidemic plaguing Bamarre, the Gray Death, and did so without a single trace of fear upon her delicate features as the brave-faced Meryl stomped around the garden searching for the 'cure' to the Gray Death, which ending up being a sip of brook water.

"Someday, Addie," Meryl said after their game had reached its conclusion. "Someday we'll set out together and find the cure, and all of Bamarre will prosper because of us."

And Rhys smiled at Adelina who nodded with a grin brave enough to compare to Meryl's.

**A/N: Vampi's back :3 I've been wanting to do a TPOB fic for AGES, in Rhys's point of view, but I've been so busy with everything that it's been hard to even set aside two minutes for writing purposes. I'm now living in a group home (HELL) and they don't let me do anything but chores and reflective work, and they don't allow laptops there. -_- so all updates will be very scattered and far apart. but in the meantime, enjoy Rhys's view and little cut scenes that Addie never told ;)**


	2. Unbefitting Thoughts

Chapter 2

Unbefitting Thoughts

Rhys, who had been given a comfortable servants chamber (void of a bed, as sorcerers couldn't sleep; and he'd been thrilled to discover that the chamber Lord Baignard had assigned to him was thankfully very near the library), did not spare the two princesses another portion of his thoughts in the next couple of days that followed his arrival into King Lionel's court. He purposely avoided looking out of windows, though he wasn't sure why, and made sure to keep himself busy to distract himself from the contempt of serving beneath King Lionel.

The birthday of the two princesses came with much celebration and joy. Rhys, acting as Lord Baignard's personal escort (which Lord Baignard seemed to believe to be a tremendous honour) attended both of the banquets in honour of the princesses' twelfth birthdays. Princess Meryl's celebration had been quite enjoyable for Rhys; he'd watched a metre or two behind the King, watching and clapping politely as Meryl was greeted and given gifts that a soldier would have been excited to obtain. However it had been Princess Adelina's that had peaked his interest in particular.

While Princess Meryl's festival had honoured her bravery, Princess Adelina's would surely depict her quiet demeanour and shyness. Rhys briefly pictured a banquet filled with people in dull-coloured attire with their heads bowed shyly, scolded himself for such thoughts about his superior and promptly picked out his favourite robes of peacock blue.

Princess Adelina was sitting where Princess Meryl had sat when it'd been her birthday: in the centre of the table perched upon the highest chair. Unlike Princess Meryl, as expected, Princess Adelina wasn't sitting confidently upright. Her chestnut-coloured curls were hiding her face from the attention of onlookers, including Rhys himself. As though obeying a silent command from the princess, Rhys looked away from her, took his seat beside a loud Lord Baignard and made polite conversation as he sipped his wine.

However, when the cook (a rotund woman in a stained white apron) and her servants whisked several meals onto the table, Rhys happened to glance up, and what he saw shocked him.

The previously terrified Princess Adelina was more relaxed now that everybody's attention had turned to the food, her head was held upright and her hair swept back. Rhys watched her as discreetly as he could, drinking in the little princess as heavily as Lord Baignard was quaffing his ale. While Princess Meryl's mouth was small and watermelon-pink, Princess Adelina's were full and strawberry-red; her lips turned upward into a half-smile as her sister whispered something to her. The more Rhys watched her the more he wished he hadn't worn such festive attire, although why he wished such a thing was beyond him.

She blinked slightly too often, Rhys noted as he continued to watch her, which made her look all the more sweetly innocent. Immediately as her sister whispered something else to her, her already raspberry-kissed cheeks reddened becomingly, and her eyes skimmed to the ground embarrassedly. Rhys wished he could be the one to make such a blush appear on her face.

After the banquet was over and Rhys had returned to his chamber, he'd been horrified with himself. How could he have thought such things about the princess? They were unbefitting of a sorcerer, especially one apprenticed to the princess's father!

He shan't ever think of her again, he decided.

* * *

His plan failed, not immediately but unbelievably quickly. It hadn't yet been even a full twenty-four hours when Rhys accidentally knocked into the physician, an elf named Milton, who was carrying two pillows.

"Forgive me," Rhys said, helping Milton to his feet and bowing less grandly than he normally would have.

"Think not of it," smiled Milton, prompting Rhys to smile back. "You are the new sorcerer, are you not? You came last week?"

Rhys nodded, bowing again. "I have been assisting Lord Baignard and His Majesty."

Milton actually granted him a look of pity as he started off. "I see." He paused. "Will you accompany me? Trina, the princesses' chambermaid, has taken ill." He paused again, looking crestfallen. "Perhaps you can assist me and the princesses in helping her to be more comfortable. She complains of everything," he added unnecessarily.

But Rhys's stomach did back flips; the princesses were there as well? Rhys shook the thought out of his head, bowed a third time and replied, "Certainly," to which Milton beamed gratefully.

Milton led Rhys into the chambermaid's quarters, where Rhys spotted Princess Adelina sitting at the window seat with an expression of sadness, next to a vase of anemones.

_Ah, so Trina has the Gray Death_, Rhys thought briefly, before his attention turned to Princess Adelina's look of astonishment at his presence. She jumped up in alarm, and her chair toppled over behind her. Before she could pick it up Rhys hurried over to it, eager to please, righted it and bowed as grandiosely as he could. She curtsied gracefully in response, though her eyes reflected awkwardness and confusion.

Rhys ripped his attention away from the princess and turned to the chambermaid, who was leaning forward so that Milton could place the new pillows behind her. "Mistress Trina, I am very sorry that you're feeling ill. Please let me know if there's anything I can do to make you more comfortable."

Trina frowned with distrust at him. "I don't want any magic potions, begging your pardon, sir."

He bowed again, less grandly than he had for Princess Adelina, and said with a smile, "No magic potions. I promise."

Out of the corner of his eye he watched Princess Adelina's worried face soften at his smile, and he resisted the urge to smile at her too.

"These pillows are hard too," Trina complained, shining light on what Milton had said earlier.

Rhys stepped forward eagerly. "Perhaps I can improve upon them." He directed his attention to Milton. "May I try?"

Milton shrugged. "Go ahead."

The chambermaid sat up in alarm, her distrust in him not even remotely hidden. "I don't want a magic pillow that will explode or fly me away in the middle of the night."

Rhys was shocked. "I would never give anyone such a pillow."

Severely aware that Princess Adelina was watching him, Rhys opened the pouch that hung around his waist and pulled out his slim golden baton, pointing it at the sky. He slipped past Princess Adelina, firmly avoiding her gaze, and opened the window, allowing a wisp of cloud from the white-ish sky to drift into the room with them. Trina was clearly terrified of it, but Princess Adelina, Rhys was pleased to see, looked delighted.

The chambermaid held her hands in front of her face, as though scared the cloud would wrap around her and suffocate her. "Don't let it hurt me!"

Rhys ignored her, shaping the cloud expertly into a pillow shape. Out of the corner of his eye he saw, with a leap of excitement in his stomach, that Princess Adelina was starting to show signs of a smile. The others in the room had moved forward to get a better look and even Trina was peeking between her fingers, but Rhys was concentrating mainly on not looking at Princess Adelina, in case she was now smiling full-on, and Rhys was already nervous as hell.

"Sleep is always sweet when your pillow is a cloud," Rhys said breezily, as Trina took her hands away from her face. "Lean forward."

She still looked wary. "You're sure it's safe?"

"Perfectly safe," he assured her.

Trina frowned but did as she was told, and Rhys gently placed the cloud pillow on top of the other two regular pillows.

"There," he said. "Now lean back."

Trina scowled at Rhys and frowned, "I'll go right through it!" But when she lowered herself onto it, her irritated expression vanished. "It _is _a trifle better."

Milton said happily, "Why, look at that!"

Rhys was shocked to hear an unfamiliar, delighted laugh paired with a happy exclamation, "The pillow won't rain, will it?"

It took Rhys a split second to realize it'd been Princess Adelina who'd laughed so sweetly, and Rhys laughed as well, allowing himself to look at her. She was grinning, making her cheeks rosy and her eyes sparkle.

"Rain! I never thought of that. Pillow rain." It was comical. Rhys shook his head, still chuckling, though his insides were melting like butter at the fact that he had impressed her with such a simple bit of magic, and that _he _had made her laugh! "It won't rain, and Trina's dreams will be lovely."

At Rhys's assurance Trina sighed and closed her eyes, snuggling into the cloud pillow. "I think I'll take a nap now."

At her chambermaid's words, Rhys saw Princess Adelina's face fall immediately, from the adorable look of elation back to the lines of worry. Rhys wished she would smile again.

Princess Adelina turned to Milton. "Trina should struggle against the Gray Death, shouldn't she?"

"It can't hurt her to try, but she should sleep now," said Milton, though Rhys silently agreed with Princess Adelina. "She won't get must rest tomorrow." The princess's face fell into confusion, and Milton added, "One of your father's carriages will take her home to her family tomorrow." Milton made quite a scene of tucking in Trina's blankets and avoiding Princess Adelina's eye. "Trina, you'll think over Her Highness's suggestions in the carriage, won't you?"

Trina nodded with her eyes closed. Rhys knew she was fibbing; she would not heed Princess Adelina's suggestion. He looked over in alarm when the princess turned despondently and left the room. Eager to make her acquaintance (and to perhaps see more of her smiles) Rhys hurried to fall into pace with her.

"Your Highness." Rhys wondered what to say, now that he was here with her at last. "I see your beautiful embroidery everywhere I look in the castle. I'm so happy to meet the artist." He wasn't lying.

"Thank you," Princess Adelina murmured, not looking at him. "They're not very good."

"But they're _very _good!" exclaimed Rhys, and to his delight and shock a blush swept over her already pink cheeks. He wondered, if he were to reach out and touch her skin, would it be warm?

They were silent for a few moments, and Rhys waited and watched until her blush faded before saying, "Making cloud pillows is one of the first lessons a sorcerer learns." He waited, hoping to have engaged her back into the conversation, but she seemed too shy to answer. He tried again, "I'm sorry about your chambermaid."

Rhys sighed elaborately. "I suppose it's silly to feel sad over something I hardly know, but you see, sorcerer's don't get sick. We're never ill, so illness seems tragic to me." He waited for her to continue, hoping.

Those lovely lips parted, "Er… that's interesting."

"It _is _interesting," Rhys insisted, looking over his shoulder to continue conversing when the corridor became too narrow to walk side by side. "It's interesting how different we are from other creatures— how different we are from humans, and how different humans are from elves and elves are from dwarfs and dwarfs from sorcerers. It's fascinating."

He smiled, hoping he wasn't babbling. Then he remembered the week earlier, as he'd watched Princess Adelina play a Gray Death victim with her sister. "Are you afraid of becoming a victim of the Gray Death?"

She shook her head, confirming Rhys's theory. "You're brave, Princess Addie."

Princess Addie blushed again, not over Rhys's slip of the tongue 'Princess Addie' instead of 'Princess Adelina', and she said hurriedly, "Do you think…?" She paused. "Could you rid the castle of spiders?" She flinched, as those Rhys had struck her.

Rhys stopped walking abruptly, contemplating the question before his mind was temporarily wiped blank when Princess Addie nearly walked into him— instead she briefly touched him and drew away quickly. He contemplated longer than usual— upon collision she'd sent a whiff of a naturally perfumed scent that fogged up his brain. It was delectable… like vanilla.

"I think I can," he replied, the fuzz leaving his brain as he nodded vigorously. "Certainly I can." He turned away from her so as not to reveal his slowly warming cheeks. "I'll do it tonight. Ugly little beasts, aren't they?"

"Thank you," she said, and he heard the smile in her voice. Rhys turned, hoping to see it, and there it was.

"You're welcome," he said, trying to keep the eagerness off of his face as he bowed as grandly as he could. She curtsied in response, still smiling, and they continued down the steps. For a moment Rhys realized how young Princess Addie was: only twelve years old! He tried not to feel disgusted with himself— how could he be thinking such unbefitting thoughts of a child? If Orne could read minds, he'd scold Rhys soundly.

"In sorcerer's years I'm a bit older than you are now, but not a great deal older," he said, to calm himself down. "I'm seventy-eight. If I were a human, I'd be just about seventeen. I envy human children. You learn everything so quickly. We can speak and even fly when we're born, but beyond that we learn almost too slowly to bear."

_Perhaps that's why I haven't yet learned to control my emotions, _Rhys thought furiously.

They reached the bottom of the stairs and Rhys bowed again, suddenly desperate to get away from her lest his stomach flop over completely. "I must leave you now. I look forward to speaking with you again."

He turned and left, heading straight for his chamber, and sank into his favourite armchair to begin poring over more sorcerer's textbooks from Orne. After rereading the same line several times over the course of the hour, Rhys gave up, and suddenly remembered his promise to Princess Addie as he saw a particularly spindly, hairy spider climbing up the sleeve of one of his robes. He frowned at it, pulled out his golden baton and with a wave the spider was flung outside by an invisible but strong gust of wind.

Rhys grinned in satisfaction, before images in his mind began to blossom as he wondered what Princess Addie's reaction would be if she'd been with him during the spell. Perhaps she'd been thrilled, and cry out with thankfulness, and slid one of her hands onto his arm as a gesture of gratitude—

Rhys hit himself over the forehead with his baton irritably, thinking angrily, _Stop thinking such thoughts._

_But why? _asked a snide voice within Rhys's head that sounded a bit like Orne. _Nobody can see or hear what you're thinking… if you don't act upon thoughts, you can think of anything to your heart's content…_

Rhys frowned, contemplated this fact and agreed with it, and his thoughts slipped back into daydream mode, in which Princess Addie would be stealing glances at him and blushing when he looked back. They'd meet secretly in the gardens in the dead of night only to walk around, speaking of each other's experiences and, eventually, their secrets and emotions. Rhys would tell her just how comely she looked by moonlight, and her blush would emerge silver and she'd mumble her thanks. Rhys would slip one of his hands into hers; Princess Addie would gasp but oblige nonetheless, and next to the trickling of the brook would be a sweet melody as he pulled her into his arms, leaned down and captured her raspberry-kissed lips, and she would submit more than willingly, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck…

Throughout the course of the night these thoughts continued in varying scenarios — how much time Rhys was lost in his own mind, he did not know — but eventually they reached a point that screamed illicitness. Rhys imagined scenarios in which they would 'accidentally' meet in the library, where Rhys would pull her behind a bookcase where solitude was guaranteed, and while he pinned her against the wall and kissed her his hands slid off the top of her gown to reveal bare shoulders; her skin there would be petal-soft, as would the rest of her, he decided. He would lean over and bury his face in the beautiful arch of her neck, and there it would smell heavily of her vanilla-scent, and if — no, _when _— he licked her there, she would taste of vanilla as well. His Addie would be mewling with pleasure, sounds that would fill him up inside and make him wish to ravish her all the more—

Rhys stopped immediately, his mouth falling open in horror. _His Addie, _he'd called her. No. No, this was getting far too out of hand…

Rhys threw himself out of the chair, scolded himself soundly along with the voice in his head that had tempted him into such thoughts in the first place, and buried himself into Orne's textbook.

**A/N: Ta da :3 hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it! Thanks so much to my reviewers, ESPECIALLY GREY KINDLE WHO I DIDN'T KNOW LIKED THIS BOOK TOO! **


	3. Not Long At All

Chapter 3

Not Long At All

Little over four years had passed since Rhys had first spoken to Addie outside her chambermaid's room. Rhys had learned that Trina, in the meantime, had been sent away to be with her family in the morning after their encounter, and in the following months he received news of her death. He rarely saw Addie over the course of those four years — he called her Addie out of pure habit in his mind, and in his mind only, ever since _That Night _— on the rare occasions he did speak to her, he left feeling vigorous and elated.

The first time, she had been watching nothing in particular through the window, as Rhys had emerged from King Lionel's council room, glad to finish the odiously dull meeting discussing crops in the Western Farmlands. He couldn't contain his exclamation of part-delight, part-shock, and part-embarrassment.

"Princess Addie!"

She had jumped in alarm and turned over to him, her marvellous blue eyes wide with just as much shock and embarrassment as Rhys. Then she had been almost fourteen, nearing the age of a lady but still not quite there. She had (as Rhys couldn't help but painfully be aware of) begun developing breasts, which were now the size of peaches and would fit perfectly into one of his tapering hands.

Then, Rhys had resisted the urge to run to her but swept into another dazzling bow that outshone all others. She curtsied in reply, her face blushing pink as usual, and he had hastened to tell her a tale of his adventures to a land King Maurice had once sent him. After they'd parted ways rather abruptly, Rhys wore a rather stupid grin on his face throughout the rest of his solitude-filled day.

The second, he had been on the front lawn with Addie's father, tuning the King out as he quoted yet another ridiculous saying from _The Book of Homely Truths, _at which Rhys's contempt for it was increasing to the point where he wished to set it aflame. All the while they had spoken earlier about a local ogre attack, Rhys had had his eyes set on King Lionel's face, for in the window two stories above was Addie, watching him. Twice Rhys's tongue had slipped nervously while speaking with His Majesty, and both times he had to apologise for spacing out. King Lionel raised his hand in parting, and Rhys, eager to show Addie something and hoping he didn't look like he was showing off, rocketed into the air backwards as gracefully as though the wind were carrying him.

He also saw her every day at dinner, taking care not to stare as he had done oh-so-unabashedly at her twelfth birthday celebration, but it was a difficult task for Rhys as every night he felt her gaze on him— as he had four years ago, he most often wore his peacock's attire to dinner, and regretted it when her eyes had no trouble seeking him out in the throng, and he would then spend the rest of the night catching his reflection in the back of his spoon to make sure he looked suitable, or conversed with a flaming-red face.

Sometimes, he liked to stay in his chambers, which overlooked the garden, and watch her embroider in the clearing beneath an apple tree. Whenever Addie embroidered, Rhys noticed, she rarely moved even a millimetre in any direction, too concentrated on her stitching; occasionally, depending on what scene from _Drualt _she was embroidering, she would smile as she sewed, and Rhys would smile back at her.

Those times were more rare than Rhys liked— at first he had been terrified that King Lionel suspected the crush Rhys was nursing against his youngest daughter, as the King continuously sent him to the faraway corners of Bamarre to aid farmers with their crops if there was a drought. Rhys's terror liquefied once he had accidentally overheard King Lionel telling Lord Baignard, "It's a relief to have that sorcerer here; I no longer have to make such long journeys, I can simply send him instead!" It hurt slightly to know Rhys meant nothing but a slight burden-lifter to King Lionel, but he was more preoccupied being relieved at how dreadfully dim the King was.

Each time Rhys would arrive at one of these far Bamarre villages, the first thing he would do was go to the nearest market and pick out a gift for Addie. The first time was a jade necklace that Rhys believed would bring out the colour of her eyes; the second, a first-edition original copy of _Drualt_; the third, a beautiful emerald cloak that also reminded Rhys heavily of her eyes; the fourth, a book of embroidering techniques that, Rhys was thrilled to discover, contained a picture of a tapestry with yet another _Drualt _scene almost as expertly done as Addie's were. Each time he'd pick something out for her, he'd swear to himself in that moment that he would give it to her, but when the time came, he never did.

Now, he was stationed at a northern village at the base of the Eskern Mountains called Elunvale. As usual, the first thing Rhys did was stroll into the market, poring through various trinkets and wondering which Addie would like. His eyes fell on a peculiar wooden ball, less than half the size of his fist, which looked entirely unremarkable within the sea of glistening ornaments.

"Begging pardon, sir," said Rhys, bowing low. "What is that wooden ball doing within these jewels?"

"Ar, yeh're not the first person teh ask me that, sorcerer," said the vendor, winking and picking up the wooden ball. "Watch."

He slid open the wooden ball, twisting it and revealing a previously invisible seam, and Rhys's eyes widened. Within the ball were yards and yards of royal blue cloth, softer and finer than the finest silk, and poking through the fabric was an incredibly thin needle.

"How much?" had been Rhys's immediate reaction not even two seconds later.

* * *

He returned to Bamarre Castle a week later, the wooden ball in his pouch and an excited grin on his face as he flew towards the view of the turrets. As was the case with his other previous similar instances, however, he stopped abruptly and blanched as he reached the drawbridge. For goodness sake, he couldn't do that— it was completely out of the question! He was but a sorcerer, a servant to Addie's father, and she herself was still young, not quite a child anymore but still too young to understand what he felt for her (and he didn't understand himself, which posed a more than slight dilemma). Feeling the hard wood through his pocket, Rhys sighed despondently but held his head high and strolled into the castle, hovering a centimetre off the ground.

Two years later Rhys still had the wooden ball of cloth, which was kept safely hidden at the bottom of his trunk. His apprenticeship to King Lionel was already more than halfway over, and Rhys felt mixed emotions about this fact— thrilled, because the prospect of serving _anybody_ but a dim-witted coward of a King who constantly quoted from a book of nonsense; angry and upset, because the thought of never seeing Addie again, or even not being in the same kingdom as her, made him physically sick to his stomach, so he refused to even contemplate existence without her.

She was sixteen at the moment, and quite developed now, almost completely. What had once been peach-like breasts were now full and round, like melons; her hips had grown and her waist had slimmed beautifully, making her look womanly and regal; her hair, earlier up to her shoulders, was now waist-length and lovely. Her face now retained barely a trace of childlike roundness, and her lips were fuller and pinker.

At this time, King Lionel had issued a command about the construction of a new wing on Bamarre Castle, which Rhys was ordered to supervise and use his magic to straighten walls and keep stones from falling on the workers. He found it difficult to concentrate, as Addie would for some reason always be sitting in a seat by a window, which overlooked the work, but whenever Rhys chanced a glance at her she would be bent over her embroidery. Once Rhys caught her eye, flushed and waved to cover up his embarrassment— he prayed to God that she didn't see him almost allow a large chunk of stone to squish a worker not even a second later. When he looked up in five minutes' time to see her again, she was gone. That's when he realized just how foolish he was acting. Addie was nearly a woman now, and here he was, avoiding her gaze and blushing at the smallest amount of eye contact as though they were both little children. He wouldn't anymore, he decided. He would befriend her like he'd never given himself the chance to, and get to truly know her beyond the possibly incorrect Addie he'd fantasized about.

* * *

After a week of seclusion and silent panicking, he stationed himself in the gardens, between the spot where Addie would sometimes sit and embroider and the place where Addie, Princess Meryl and Mistress Bella would stroll every morning. With him he had brought gifts for the three of them; originally he had intended to give only Addie a gift, but he realized halfway out the door that that would be immensely rude (and suspicious). He'd spent the night before pacing his room, having multiple mute panic attacks and searching everything he had for things to give the two princesses and their teacher. On the bench next to where he now sat was a fencing sword, which a King he'd been apprenticed to years earlier had given him despite the well-know fact that Rhys did not wield swords. In his sorcerer's pouch was a dragon's scale, a useful item Orne had once given him as a reward for hard work. He'd had no use for it beyond using it as a letter opener once, since he only ever rarely got mail.

Addie's gift had been the most difficult to pick out, as he had bought dozens of things for her and had never actually presented. Should it be the necklace, or the cloak, or perhaps both? Should it be the copy of _Drualt _he'd obtained in such excellent condition, or the book of sewing techniques, or the fabulous ball of cloth? It ought to be something related to embroidery; she loved it so much, he decided after much thought. The wooden ball was his final choice— he'd imagined her look of surprise when he revealed the true nature of the ball. He'd give the other gifts to her in due time, when they were friends.

Rhys leaned back his head and breathed in the air, thick with the scent of irises and roses, both of which lined the path and were in full bloom. He heard Princess Meryl and Mistress Bella's voices, and for a moment he was worried Addie had stayed behind. But when he opened his eyes there she was, eyeing the irises with a thoughtful look, and Rhys bit back a smile— he could practically hear her imagination going a mile a minute. Perhaps she was considering embroidering them. He felt himself blush when Addie's eyes snapped to him; she looked utterly shocked at his presence. In humility and to hide his flaming cheeks Rhys bowed elaborately again.

"Princesses, Mistress Bella."

He refused to call Addie out by name; it would certainly look too suspicious. Bella was already eyeing him warily as the three of them curtsied in reply, as if she knew, but Milton enlightened Rhys upon the fact that he was an outsider in her view. He hoped to reconcile and anticipated that his gift would mend things between them. It was a brief thought however, for Addie once again bloomed into his mind as always.

"I have gifts for you, if I may," Rhys said, trying to hide his excitement by turning around to pick up Princess Meryl's scabbard. Addie was staring at him as discreetly as she could possibly muster, though her mouth was open in a shocked 'O'.

Princess Meryl also looked shocked as she accepted her gift and drew a fencing sword from the scabbard, but more excited than the former.

"I believe you like to fence, Your Highness," Rhys added.

"It's beautiful," Princess Meryl gaped, a smile cracking through her shock. She held it up towards Addie, who stepped back ever so slightly. "Isn't it splendid?"

To Rhys's utter surprise Addie was looking at it with an expression of barely-concealed revulsion. He panicked for a split second before remembering Addie's dislike for danger. Princess Meryl apparently saw it too, because she patted her sister's shoulder comfortingly.

"Stop worrying, Addie," she sighed exasperatedly, before she bounced onto the balls of her feet and began swiping the sword at a nearby rose bush. "Take that, you dastardly roses. Take that." Rhys couldn't help but notice Addie's look of worry still clear upon her visage.

"Meryl, a princess doesn't—" Mistress Bella began to chide.

"See how it catches the sunlight?" Meryl asked excitedly, holding it up for them to see. "Sword, I dub thee Blood-biter," she added imperiously. "I've longed for a sword, but… how did you know?" She looked at Rhys inquisitively.

Rhys allowed himself to smile. "You've been seen practicing with a wooden training sword." It was true, he'd seen her at it, but it hadn't been his first answer. Though he couldn't very well tell her, "Because I needed to give you a gift so I could give Addie one."

Meryl looked genuinely delighted. "Thank you. I'll use it well."

Addie's frown deepened at her words, and Rhys wished to kiss it away.

"I have something for you too, Mistress Bella," he forced himself to say upon looking away lest he lunge at the youngest princess.

"I can't accept a…"

Her voice trailed away immediately when Rhys withdrew the dragon's scale from the pouch at his waist. It captured Princess Meryl's attention, and she stopped fencing to look— even Addie, to his delight, allowed the frown to melt away as she looked in silent awe at the beautiful object.

"Is it?" Bella breathed, awestruck.

"Yes," grinned Rhys, internally sighing in relief at having finally impressed Addie. "It's a scale from a dragon's tail." Bella, forgetting her distrust in him, neared him and reached out to take it. "Take care. The tip is very sharp."

"Did you slay the dragon?" asked Princess Meryl in hushed tones, as if someone were eavesdropping. Rhys bit back another laugh picturing himself in all his delicate but magical glory going one-on-one with an angry dragon. He'd end up as dinner for certain.

"Thank you, Rhys," said Mistress Bella, taking the scale carefully and curtsying again.

He bowed in reply before addressing Meryl. "No, I didn't slay the dragon. The scale comes from our sorcerers' citadel, where there are many wondrous things." Rhys had dreamed more than once about whisking Addie away from the castle and carrying her through the clouds to his citadel, just to see her delicious-looking lips part in amazement at all of the incredible artefacts gathered by sorcerers over many a century. He knew he'd never be able to do it, however; for one, she'd never go with him, for another outsiders (anybody but a sorcerer) were explicitly forbidden from entering the citadel.

Addie now had the scale between her soft-looking fingers, staring at it in marvel. He could tell she was experiencing loss of moisture from her fingertips when she rubbed them together, a common feature of dragons' scales.

"Does it have any power?" Meryl inquired.

Before Bella could go into teaching-mode, Rhys began to explain. "It's versatile, Princess Meryl. Hold it in your hand, and you'll be cozy warm on the coldest day…"

_If you held Addie in your arms you'd probably feel the same way, _quipped his libido idly.

"… Place it on your mantel, and mice and rats will stay away from your hearth…" he continued, feeling heat rise on his cheeks.

_The hearth would be a good place to make love, _it crooned.

"… Boil it in a pot, and you'll have a tasty broth, fiery and a little bitter…"

_I bet Addie would be tastier, _his libido smirked.

"… Take it out of the pot, dry it off, and it makes a superior letter opener," he finished with relief.

_Addie would—_

_Shut up, _Rhys fumed mentally, bowing to cover up the fact that his face was reflecting anger at himself.

When he rose again Bella was placing the scale carefully and Meryl was fencing her way back toward the castle, saying all the while, "And the best part is that the dragon who owned the scale is dead. That's the very best part."

The three of them followed, Addie trying not to smirk at her sister's quip and Bella calling after the eldest princess, "Be careful."

Rhys hurried to walk next to Addie, suppressing a shiver when her arm accidentally brushed his. "I have a gift for you too, Princess Addie." His hands were shaking with anticipation to give it to her. She actually shook her head, though her cheeks reddened becomingly again.

Rhys practically plunged his hand into the pocket of his doublet, holding out the smooth wooden ball he'd spent hours debating over. He saw her confusion, and was reminded of his own initial curiosity. "This is more than it seems." He twisted the ball and revealed the cloth, and he couldn't suppress an enormous grin as her eyes took it in, alight with shock and delight. He held it out eagerly for her to touch, and when she did she actually gasped almost mutely.

"And there," he added, pointing towards the needle. Addie looked up at him, her comely face tinged pink with exhilaration, astonishment and her initial shyness, and Rhys's smile widened at the sight of it. He wished he could stare for hours into her eyes but instead forced himself to look away so as to roll the cloth back into the ball. "Here."

Addie took it, still looking ravishingly amazed. Once again Rhys could hear the gears of her imagination working as she debated how to use her new gift.

"Thank you," she said at first, slightly breathlessly. I'll try to add to its beauty."

The smile dropped off of his face immediately when Addie without warning reached up and slid one hand over his cheek. It was as though the entire world suddenly disappeared, and time had stopped then. His inside flooded with shock and nervousness when he realised (with the help of his libido) that her hand was _just as soft as he'd imagined_… perhaps more so. Rhys had to fight with all of his might to stop from leaning into it, or seizing it with one of his own hands and kissing her fingertips. Her skin smelled of vanilla, assaulting Rhys's nose and making his brain go fuzzy again. His cheeks heated underneath her palm, which he desperately hoped Addie wouldn't notice.

"Come, Addie," called Bella, breaking his reverie. Addie snatched her hand back almost as if he'd burnt her, her eyes skimming embarrassedly to the ground.

"I must go," tumbled from her mouth before she turned and hurried away, leaving Rhys standing beneath a gate of roses, dumbstruck and rooted to the spot. Slowly he shifted back to Bamarre, frowning at a caterpillar near his spurred boot, and his hand reached up to touch the cheek that Addie had. He hadn't quite been prepared for that, and now there was a war being waged between his common sense and his emotions for Addie. What did her gesture mean? Was it a simple thanks displaying affection, proof of their new friendship? Or was it something involving heart-stopping glances and gentle caresses…?

_Stop it, _he scolded himself, snapping out of his reverie and soaring to his chambers. His daydreams that night were plagued with Addie's touch and her hands being somewhere other than his face.

**A/N: Yea i know, this is long overdue ^^' i've been kind of preoccupied with my other fanfictions and my book (you can find the first couple of chapters on fictionpress, it's called Kissing Roses :)) same author name) so i've devised a routine to ensure nothing gets postponed: Shadows, Whispers and Destruction is top priority, then Afraid of the Dark, then Courage to Make Love Known, then Addie, Simply Addie (;D) and finalizing with Earl and Fairy's Secret. Anyway, I'm rambling, thank yous go to Grey Kindle (ofc ofc), Ava-Potter gal and jblockk. Hope you enjoyed**


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